


static of this cruel world

by wolfpacklove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Dean Winchester Needs Therapy, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Fix-It, Good Sibling Sam Winchester, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Temporary Character Death, dean is working on his, sam winchester gets his happy ending, series finale didn't happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfpacklove/pseuds/wolfpacklove
Summary: “Don’t tell me it wasn’t my fault!” He turns and throws the beer bottle across the room. It hits the wall and shards fly, liquid frothing as it splashes down the wall into a foamy puddle. “Because it was. He’s gone, because of me. So I can’t let it go. Not yet.”Dean comes to terms with everything that happened with Chuck - and with Cas.(aka the author hops on the fanfic fix-it train to cope with her own feelings)
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	static of this cruel world

**Author's Note:**

> like many of you lovely folks, I've struggled to wrap my head around the last few episodes, so here I am, albeit delayed a couple of weeks. I just needed to see Dean actually deal with what happened, particularly THAT scene with Cas. I understand canonically why they kept him so stoic on some level, but he's got feelings too, poor bb needs a chance to actually feel them and do something about it.
> 
> thanks to Spock and Scotty for the beta and for being my sounding boards, and for being patient while I blow up the group chat with my writing issues.
> 
> and most importantly, thank you spn team for 15 wonderful years.
> 
> [title from blackbird by alter bridge]

It takes a while to shake the feeling that Chuck went down too easy. 

They have a little get-together in the bunker, after it’s over. Part victory celebration, part memorial. Just a few people - Eileen, Jody, Donna, Bobby, Charlie. They tried to get Jack, but either he’s too busy being "hands-off" or doesn’t hear their prayers. And is that even how to contact him now? They don’t really know how this works, they’re kind of outside the regular playbook now.

Dean is in the kitchen, for most of it. Cooking burgers, but also avoiding… everyone. Things keep popping in his head, ways this could be a long con. He keeps thinking Chuck will pop up anytime now and snap his fingers and it’ll be over. Again. 

He doesn’t know if he could take it. Not again. He can’t lose anyone else. 

Whatever brain power isn’t thinking of ways it could go south again is thinking of things he could’ve done different, and that’s almost worse. It just keeps digging at his brain, if we’d done this, maybe we could’ve kept that from happening. And no matter how it starts, it always ends with, maybe Cas would still be here, before he reroutes his brain and it starts all over. 

He hasn’t let himself think about Cas, not really. Whenever his mind starts wandering that way, he makes it go somewhere else. It’s the only way he was able to function long enough to finish things. 

Dean has been accused, many times over, of being cold, or harsh, or emotionless. That’s not true - he’s just a bottler. He avoids talking, or even thinking about what he feels most of the time. It may take a while, but for the most part he processes things eventually. Talking just isn't part of that process. And maybe it isn’t the healthiest way to do things, maybe it overflows or outright explodes out of him sometimes, but it’s gotten him this far. 

So he stays in the kitchen, cooks his burgers and drinks his beer. Bobby comes in and offers to take over so he can be with the others, but Dean waves him off. “I don’t trust you people with my burgers, man.” Bobby makes small talk for a minute, but soon gives up and just grasps his shoulder with a sad smile before rejoining the party. Jody’s in not long after that and starts prepping tomatoes and lettuce and onions. Doesn’t say anything except hey and where do you keep the good knives. Dean grabs his hunting knife off of the table, flips it in the air and offers it to her handle first; Jody gives him that motherly shame-on-you look she’s perfected since she took in the girls. He shrugs and puts the knife back on the table with a smirk. Sam floats in and out, grabbing drinks for himself and the others, making brief comments here and there. The only consistent company is Miracle, gnawing on a bone and basking in the heat pumping out of the vent, and he’s perfectly content with that.

And then dinnertime rolls around. He takes a deep breath before stepping into the living area with a loud, “Burger time!” and a big smile. 

They manage to avoid any conversation of what happened with Chuck for a good while after they finish, and Dean is almost able to relax, almost, until Sam stands up and clears his throat. Everyone quiets down immediately. 

“Hey, guys. I just wanted to say something, real quick.” Dean’s eyes involuntarily trace the names carved in the table. “We told you what happened with - with Chuck. How Jack absorbed all that power and took the god out of him, and how he left to avoid making the same mistakes as him. We miss him like hell, but he told us he’d be with us forever, a little of himself is everywhere, in everything now, but especially in our hearts. 

“One of the last things he told us was that we showed him that when people have to be their best, they can be. We can be. And that’s what we need to believe in. People, being their best. And I don’t know who exemplifies that more than this group right here - minus a few we lost along the way. I just-” His voice cracks, hard. “I just want to say thank you. To all of you. We wouldn’t be standing here without you. You’ve all been there through so much over the years and sacrificed more than your fair share, and you deserve better. I only hope that now you can have that.

“And to those who couldn’t make it tonight. Crowley, Rowena, Kevin. Ellen and Jo. Adam. Mom and Dad. Castiel.” He pauses, glances at Dean. “They gave… everything. For the world. For us.” He lifts his glass, but nothing comes out when he goes to continue. His eyes meet Dean's for a long moment, then he sits, Eileen quick to grab his hand. 

Dean stands, slowly. All eyes turn to him, and he meets each of their gazes in turn. “To the ones who survived, and the ones who gave their lives. The best thing we can do to honor their sacrifice… is to keep living. To carry on.”

“Carry on” echoes around him as they toast. Dean downs the remaining half of his beer in one gulp, then sets it down with a harsh clank. Sam nods and tips his glass at him. He nods in response, then looks his friends over one more time. “Thank you. For everything.” And with that, he steps away from the table and slips out the back. 

\---

Dean lies back on the hood of the Impala, legs hanging in front of the grill. The bottle of whiskey he snagged on his way out dangles loosely from one hand, his head rests on the other arm. Out here, with no city lights to ruin the view, the night sky seems to never end. Not that he’s ever stopped to appreciate it, before. As he finds Orion out of habit - the only constellation he can ever find - his mind wanders, and he can’t quite bring himself to stop it. 

When I experienced a moment of true happiness, the Empty would be summoned and it would take me forever.

There had always been a certain ineffable tension between him and Cas. He was never sure what it was, to be honest. For a long time he thought it was just their “profound bond,” or whatever. Cas did grip him tight and raise him from perdition, after all - that does create a certain kind of connection. And then everything else they’d been through… Cas became part of the family. The third brother. But there was always something different about Sam-and-Cas as opposed to Dean-and-Cas. Cas belonged to him first, and no one ever forgot it. 

Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just being. It’s in just saying it.

It didn’t sink in, at the time. There was a lot going on. Billie pounding on the door, his heart pounding in his aching chest. His brain didn’t have time to register what Cas was saying. All he knew, deep in his gut, before Cas ever said the words, was that it was a goodbye. Cas was doing something heroic and idiotic and throwing his life away and Dean didn’t know how to stop it. 

Why didn’t he think faster, why didn’t he stop Cas, why didn’t he say something, anything- he just stood there, and all he could say was don’t do this, Cas, and then Cas did it anyway. 

You changed me, Dean.

He didn’t think to say that Cas changed him too. He didn’t think to say that Cas was the only thing that kept him going, sometimes. He didn’t think to say how when things between them were fucked it felt like a part of him had been ripped away, a raw angel-shaped hole in his being. Cas was his angel, in more ways than one. 

Now he’d never get the chance to say any of those things. 

I love you.

He heard the words, and he thought Cas meant it in the angelic or divine sense, at first. Not that that even makes sense, the way things panned out with Chuck. Then, an undertone of brotherly love. A friendship that’s deeper than friendship, that goes into family territory. But there’s a look in Cas’ eyes, pleading for Dean to understand- and it clicks. 

Goodbye, Dean.

And then black sludge was engulfing Cas, and Dean will never forget the smile on Cas’ lips when the Empty took him. Sad, but at peace. 

All it took for him to be happy was to say the words. 

Dean’s world came crashing down around him. The sudden realization of Cas’ abrupt absence slid down his spine like ice, simultaneous freezing and burning. The silence roared in his ears. An immense pressure came down on his chest. His breaths came as gasps, short and fast. All he could do in that moment was fall back against the wall, concrete dragging at him as he slides down to the cold, hard ground, and hold his head in his hands while it occurred to him that there was something more to their profound bond - and he figured it out, quite literally, the moment it became too late. 

Because he knew, in that moment of too-late revelation, that whatever Cas felt… he felt it too. 

He sits up, takes a long swig of whiskey, then drops the bottle on the ground. He knows prayers won’t reach Cas in the Empty, but whether it’s habit or wishful thinking, he finds himself doing it anyway. 

I’m sorry, Cas.

\---

After a few days of sitting around the bunker twiddling their thumbs, Sam decides the best way to kick off their newfound freedom is to go on a road trip. 

“Come on, Dean. We travelled all over the country basically our whole lives and never got to see or do anything but hunt. Don’t you think it’s time we got to do something like that? Something normal?”

Dean looks at him over the computer screen. Sam’s got the puppy dog eyes going, full blast. “This is normal.” The eyes get poutier, so he sighs. “Sammy. I just need to be here. I need the routine. You should go. Take Eileen, go see the sights, hit some B&Bs, get some quality time without worrying about the end of the world. I’ll hold the fort down here.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Dean smiles and closes the laptop. “I’m good. I already found a case.”

(It’s a lie, but he talks them into leaving early the next morning, so Sam never has to know.)

\---

Sam and Eileen have been gone for a month. Despite Sam’s emphatic comment about seeing the sights instead of hunting, they’ve managed to take out two vamp nests, two ghosts, a shifter and a pair of witches - but he sounds happier than Dean’s ever heard him when they talk on the phone. Dean’s not even surprised when Sam video-calls him and asks him what he thinks about proposing to Eileen. 

“I know we haven’t been together long, and a lot of that time we were fighting for our lives, but Dean. This past month, spending all this time together, waking up with her in my arms every morning. I want that for the rest of my life. I want her for the rest of my life, and I don’t think I’ll ever feel complete without her again.”

“My little Sammy, all grown up.”

Sam immediately turns red. “Shut up, jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean grins. 

“I’m serious though, Dean. I want to marry her.”

The grin fades to a smile, soft and proud. “You’ve got a hell of an opportunity here, little brother. Find somewhere crazy romantic and pop the question.”

“You think she’ll say yes?”

“I’d bet my life on it.” He pauses. “And, Sammy. Do the both of you a favor and hire a photographer when you do it. You won’t regret it.”

The next day, Dean drives out to meet them for a few days. When Eileen is otherwise occupied, he gives Sam Mary’s ring. The day after that, Sam proposes to the love of his life, and she says yes. The photographer does not disappoint. 

\---

Sam and Eileen come home two weeks later to a completely different bunker. 

The library has been rearranged. One corner is now dedicated to several computers running police scanners, searching news and social media sites for suspicious content, GPS, security programs. The armory has been inventoried, reorganized and restocked. The information for hunters’ cover stories is all in one place, cell phones for “checking in with your supervisor” set up with a list of pseudonyms and other key information for each agency. A couple of hunters are there, getting supplies or information for a case. 

Which would be suspicious enough, but he also organized the books, so Sam isn’t fooled. Dean isn’t coping as well as he would have the others believe. 

Sam tries to get him to talk the easy way, a few times. Asking if everything is okay, dropping hints, bringing up the things he’s been struggling with himself. Dean puts on his poker face, says it’s been hard, but he’s fine, he’ll be fine, he just needs to keep going. And when Sam brings up his own issues, Dean plays the part of supportive big brother perfectly and deflects any attempt at turning it on him. 

Finally, in a last-ditch effort, he corners him. Dean is elbows-deep in an old car in the garage when Sam approaches, fresh beer in hand. He grunts in thanks when Sam hands him the beer, then sets it on the roof. 

“What’s going on, Dean?”

Dean just looks at him. “Just working on this old T-bird. What’s up with you?”

“You know what I mean.” Dean looks back at the car, wiping his hands idly on his jeans. “The bunker remodel, the books. I don’t think I’ve seen you sit still since I got back, and when was the last time you slept more than a couple hours?”

“I’m sleeping plenty.”

“No, you’re not. I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” Sam sighs. “Dean, I just want to help. Let me help.”

“I appreciate it, Sammy, but I’m fine. Really.”

“I mean, are you restless, feel like something’s wrong all the time? Because I get it, I feel it too. We’re used to our lives being threatened every moment of every day, it takes some time to adjust. But everything’s fine now. We can relax, let our guard down for once.”

“There are still other monsters out there, Sammy.”

“And there are other hunters. Dean, we literally beat God, I think we can sit on the bench for a while.”

“Okay, I’ll let the others do the hunting for a while.”

Sam narrows his eyes at him. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?” Dean dives back into the engine compartment of the car. “Is it… the people we lost? Is it Cas?”

Dean drops his wrench with a curse. “I said I’m fine, Sam.”

“Just talk to me, Dean, please. It’s okay to grieve.” He pauses. “Or are you looking for a way to bring him back? There’s no way out of the Empty, Dean. Eileen and I looked. Sometimes you gotta call it. We can’t keep obsessing and bringing each other back from the dead over and over, we have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Damn it, Sam!” Dean slams a hand against the edge of the car. “You keep saying we, like this is a team effort. It’s not, Sam. This is on me. Cas sacrificed his life for mine because I fucked up. I went after Billie without even thinking it could be someone else, because I had to do something and because hunting and violence is all I know. Daddy’s blunt instrument. That’s why Cas is gone, and I can’t just let that go.”

“I know Cas was important to you. He was important to all of us-”

Dean lets out a broken laugh. “Important. Right. You wanna know what Cas’ last words were?” Sam flinches and braces himself for the tsunami he brought on by breaking this dam, reminding himself that Dean needs this. “He told me he understood me. He told me I changed him. He said happiness is in just being and saying your truth. And then he told me he loved me.” Dean can see the puzzlement flit across his brother’s face before it hits him, a half-second of shock before he reins it in. And then Dean’s vision blurs; he wipes away the moisture building in his eyes impatiently, but it keeps coming. “And you wanna hear the best part, Sammy? All I could say was don’t do this. And then he was gone. And it was my fault.”

“Dean, it wasn’t-”

“Don’t tell me it wasn’t my fault!” He turns and throws the beer bottle across the room. It hits the wall and shards fly, liquid frothing as it splashes down the wall into a foamy puddle.  
“Because it was. He’s gone, because of me. So I can’t let it go. Not yet.” Dean’s chest is heaving, his face flushed. His fists clench and unclench at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to punch something. His throat aches around the lump that’s lodged itself there.

Sam is quiet, studying his brother for a long moment. Then he says, “Okay. I’ll help you.” The few tears that had escaped in Dean’s speech become a steady flow, and Sam just wraps his arms around him. “We’ll keep looking.”

Sam doesn’t ask how Dean feels about what Cas said, although a part of him wants to, just to hear him say it. He knows his brother well enough, and everything he needs to know is written plainly in the despair on Dean’s face. 

"We'll keep looking."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :) more to come!


End file.
